“Truck driver.”
“Well, I had to ask. They have to say so if they are, I saw that on Murder She Wrote one time. My name is Andi, with an ‘I’. Welcome to our little slice of heaven. You say you are interested in some jerky, then?”
“Yes.”
“How much you need?” Andi’s eyebrows hinged on a secret he was offering to let this stranger in on. A wink offered in an act of faith.
“How much you got?”
Andi smiled, relieved that this fella was willing to play ball. “Oh boy. Quite a bit. Quite. A. Bit. Yes sir-ee. You got a palate that hankers for the exotic?”
“Sure.”
“Give me a sec.” Andi walked backwards facing The Driver. “You are gonna love this, I can already tell.” He kicked back one of the swinging doors and disappeared. There were some old TV guides and slightly used flyswatters for sale in
